


Keys to My Heart

by jqueen17



Category: Phan
Genre: Angst, DAN AND PHIL - Freeform, Feels, M/M, Phan - Freeform, Piano, Reminiscing, hickey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2017-01-11
Packaged: 2018-09-16 18:32:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9284684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jqueen17/pseuds/jqueen17
Summary: We’ve all wanted Dan to get his piano fixed forever. But when a cute repair guy shows up and causes trouble, can a simple song played on the piano fix things? Well, that and a long overdue discussion of the past.Word Count:  4765Warnings: tempers, a hickey, and lots of angst and feels





	

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic of 2017! Just a little oneshot because I wanted to write about Dan’s piano skills, which have been off to war apparently. This fic was edited by one of my new betas, the lovely @cantcatchmegaythoughts on tumblr!:)
> 
> I hope you guys like this! If you do feel free to leave some feedback in the comments; you know I live for it:P

Dan

I was sleeping peacefully when a loud banging on our door jolted me out of my slumber, causing me to nearly roll off the sofa. I stumbled my way down the hall, flinging the door open to see an athletic man with a toolbox grinning at me, way too chipper at what must have been around 6AM. The sun wasn’t even up yet, for God’s sake.

“Can I help you?” I asked bluntly, not understanding what in the world was happening and why it was happening so early. I just wanted to go back to sleep, and this guy was the only thing standing in my way.

The man’s eyebrow lifted a bit, probably at my harsh tone, raspy with sleep. My hair was also questionable, so I must have seemed a bit crazy.

“I’m the piano guy,” he grinned, holding up the toolbox as if that would explain everything. “I spoke to you last week about working on your piano today?”

“Oh.” I was still a bit startled and groggy, but I stepped to the side, gesturing for him to come in. “I didn’t know you meant at this hell hour,” I mumbled, leading the way to my room.

He simply inspected the piano at first, pressing a few keys and such. 

“When was the last time it was tuned?”

I sat on my bed, running a hand over my face in an effort to fully wake myself up. “Um, six months or so? But it didn’t really help, as you can probably hear.”

The guy nodded, turning to face me as he set the toolbox on the stool. He stuck out a hand, smiling down at me. “I’m Jason. If it’s alright with you, I can stay in here and start working while you get something to eat and actually wake up?”

I shook his hand, his strong grasp surprising me. “Yeah, that’d be great. Thanks.”

He waved me off in response, opening the back of the piano and beginning whatever process was necessary to make my piano sound like anything but a dying cat. 

I left him to his devices, walking into the kitchen and pouring myself a bowl of what was left of my cereal, which was hardly enough at all for a decent bowl. I grumbled to myself as I sat at the table, still not even close to fully awake. And definitely not awake enough to hear a yell come from my room, not a minute after I’d sat down. 

I moved much too reluctantly considering the alarm in the shout, but when I looked around the corner of my bedroom door, Phil was laughing with Jason.

“Dan, I thought your piano guy was a murderer and you were dead,” Phil giggled, much too chipper at this time of day. For once I was the grumpier of the two of us before noon, but I smiled in amusement at him anyway. 

“You’ve never been particularly rational before noon. Want some eggs or something? You ate all my cereal.”

Phil grinned at my glare, his tongue poking out between his teeth. “Yeah, that’d be great. Let me wake up and I’ll join you.”

I shot him a thumbs up, smiling politely at Jason as I turned my back to the two of them. He was watching the two of us curiously, a small smile playing on his lips. 

I heard him chuckle as soon as I was out of sight, trying to be quiet enough for me to not hear him, but failing. 

“You two together?”

I didn’t stick around to hear what Phil said, but Jason’s question had made me smile. Everyone asked that, and personally, I was okay with it. Phil and I hadn’t really discussed the topic in years, but we were okay with the peace we’d attained. Sure, people shipped us more than ever because we kind of stopped caring about being careful around one another and others, but was that such a bad thing anymore?

I was fine with it. I guessed Phil was too, since neither of us tried to fight it lately.

I made Phil some eggs and toast while I waited, the way he liked them, and set them on the dining table as I took my place in my sofa crease, opening my laptop. I clicked around on Tumblr and Twitter for awhile, listening to the hum of the TV but not really paying attention to any one thing in particular. It was still early, and when I glanced down at the time on my screen, I realized it had been half an hour since Phil had gone to get dressed.

I walked down the hall, wondering if he had fallen back asleep. It was probable; Phil hated mornings as much as I did, no matter how much earlier he went to bed than me. I was about to walk right past my room when I heard a laugh, pushing the door open to see Phil still sitting on my bed, laughing at something Jason had said.

“Hey.”

Both of their eyes clicked to me, and for some reason I felt like a third wheel in my own room. I couldn’t help a spark of anger from making it’s way into my tone, and I completely ignored Jason this time.

“I made you breakfast half an hour ago. It’s probably cold by now, but just thought I’d let you know.”

Phil immediately looked sorry, but Jason simply chuckled, causing that spark of anger to flare inside of me at his general existence.

“Go on, eat breakfast. We’ll continue this conversation later.” His smile was wide and aimed only at Phil, who smiled brightly in return.

“I’ll be back soon.”

I walked back to the lounge then, not sticking around to see the damn piano guy blatantly flirt with my best friend in my bedroom. It was absurd.

I knew I was being a brat, but I didn’t really care as I threw myself back on the couch, staring angrily at my screen but not seeing anything except Phil’s smile at Jason. Why should I care who flirted with Phil? He was attractive, and kind, and funny-who wouldn’t flirt with him? Hell, I flirted with him and barely even realized it. It was hard not to.

But I couldn’t help tracking his movements with my gaze as he walked over to the plate of food I had made him, taking a bite of both the eggs and toast as sort of a peace offering to me, I guessed. It didn’t work.

“Don’t eat it if it’s cold, idiot. You can get sick like that.”

Phil carried the plate over to me, bending down and wrapping one arm around my shoulders and chest in an awkward half-hug.

“Thank you for making me breakfast,” he said quietly, knowing that voice weakened my resolve to be salty. “I promise I’ll buy you more cereal and cook dinner tonight.”

That was enough to get me to look at him, at least.

“You damn well better.”

Phil smiled, rubbing my shoulder before continuing into the kitchen to clean up the dishes. He knew I couldn’t really stay mad at him-my anger came in short bursts of nothing more than petty salt and attitude, most of the time.

But the attitude built the longer he remained out of my sight, and I knew he was talking to Jason, laughing at some other guy’s jokes in my room. What it was about them being in my room, I didn’t know, but after about two hours I couldn’t take it anymore. I shut my laptop a little too forcefully, walking straight into my room this time, scaring them be damned. It was my room.

Phil was next to Jason, leaning over the piano to look into the back of it, shoulders pressed against each other’s. They both nearly tripped over the bench when I walked in, and I made the snide little comment of Why so jumpy? in my mind.

“Sorry, don’t mind me. Just getting some clothes.”

They made sounds of acknowledgement, and I listened to their quiet conversation as I stared blankly at my wardrobe, not really knowing where I was even going that required a change of clothes.

“I like the pink-flowery blue one, with the pocket.”

I glanced at the shirt Jason was talking about, draped over the wardrobe door. I hadn’t worn it since Phil and I had played Google Feud, and I made sure he saw me inspect it before grabbing a plain black longsleeve shirt and my black skinny jeans from the mess of clothes in front of me. And just out of spite, my black zipper jacket, for good measure. I ignored Phil’s disappointed look as I walked past them, waving a hand behind me as a goodbye.

“I’ll be back later. Phil, if he finishes the piano, you know my card number.”

I didn’t wait for a response, changing in the bathroom and straightening my hair before tossing my pajamas in the laundry and slamming the front door behind me. I still didn’t get why I was so mad, but I just let the anger burn as I walked around the block, enjoying the cold air on my flushed cheeks.

I finally decided to go to Starbucks, so at least I could sit and distract myself with my phone. The barista flirted with me a bit, and she was nice enough, but I didn’t flirt back. I simply took my coffee and sat down in the corner booth, where Phil and I usually sat, which was a bad mistake as soon as I sat down in my usual spot.

It was a mistake because I missed Phil, just like I always did when I was doing ordinary things that I wouldn’t usually be doing alone. Like shopping, or going to Starbucks, or basically anything, now that I really thought about it. Phil and I really were inseparable; it was just wrong for one to be without the other. I hadn’t fully understood why until this year, but it was quite simply because neither Phil nor I liked being alone. We loathed it, to be frank; we were good together because we hated being apart. It was so clear that I wondered why our fans tried to make it into more, like soulmates or love or things like that. I wasn’t saying they were wrong, but it was just easier than that. It was the human need for companionship, and with two people who clicked as well as we did, that was the simplest thing in the world.

And that’s what eventually drove me back home. The fact that, even if Phil was in my room flirting with the piano guy, of all people, he was still there. I could still feel his presence and see his smile and hear his voice if I wanted to, and that feeling was comforting enough. Even if the added presence of Jason was not.

But I could tell as soon as I let myself in that Phil’s comforting presence was gone. It was getting close to six in the afternoon-I must have walked for longer than I’d thought-and I looked everywhere for the note I knew Phil would have left. He did that all the time-leaving a sticky note on my laptop if he was running to the drugstore before I woke up, sticking one to my cereal box if I woke up late and he had to go pick something up from the post office, basically leaving ridiculous notes everywhere instead of simply texting me. But he knew my message tone woke me up, and he would go out of his way to let me have my peace.

I couldn’t find a note anywhere. I flicked on the light in my room, the piano back to it’s original state, and I even lifted the back of it to see if Phil had left the note in there. Nothing.

I played a few notes on the thing, hearing the right tune finally come up out of it. So Jason had fixed it. For some reason, I really wasn’t as happy about it as I’d thought I’d be. I honestly kind of wished I’d never hired him.

I found myself sitting in my sofa crease once again, once again not doing anything but staring into space. I knew I was waiting for Phil to come home, but the hours ticked by until the dull hum of the TV finally lulled me into an uneasy sleep.

 

I was awoken by the soft click of the lock on the front door, which seems like it would be quiet until you hear it at three in the morning. I heard Phil’s keys jingle as he set them on the table by the door, and I sat up as he walked into the lounge. We stared at each other for an uncomfortably long moment, neither of us wanting to break the silence. It was the most awkward moment we’d had in awhile, and I knew something had changed between us.

“Did you stay up all night waiting for me?” Phil finally asked, sitting carefully beside me on the sofa.

“I tried,” I mumbled, still watching him warily. “You promised you’d make dinner.”

I wasn’t sure if I meant it to be teasing or joking or sarcastic, but Phil winced nonetheless.

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. Jason, uh… asked me to dinner.”

I sat back, expecting it but still not wanting to. “Oh. Did you two have fun?”

If Phil hadn’t been so guilty and fidgety, I wouldn’t have noticed the mark on his collarbone at all. But his fingers started nervously pulling at his shirt, and I stared at the purple spot for way too long.

“I guess you did.”

Phil looked so wracked with guilt that I almost forgave him before he’d even said anything, but he did say something, and for whatever reason, it really, really pissed me off.

“It didn’t mean anything, Dan.”

I sneered at that, already knowing I shouldn’t respond but doing it anyway. “Oh, that’s great to know, Phil. Really fucking great to know that everything today didn’t mean anything. That definitely makes me feel a thousand times better.”

Phil winced again, his eyes big and round and apologetic. I hated seeing Phil upset, I really did, because it just didn’t suit him. But neither did the hickey, given to him by some asshole who thought he could have anything he wanted because he was hot.

“I’m not trying to make you feel better with that, I just don’t want you to think-”

I cut him off, honestly just being mean and spiteful at this point. I didn’t really care.

“Maybe you should fucking try, Phil. And what don’t you want me to think? That you fucked the piano guy on the first day you met him? That you let him fucking do that-” I stabbed a finger at the bruise, making Phil wince harder this time. “-to you, when it’s just not right in any sense of the world?”

Phil’s eyes flashed, and I could tell I was pushing this too far when he snapped, “Oh? How’s it not right, Dan?”

“Because he shouldn’t be the one giving it to you!”

We fell silent, the absence of our yelling making the silence heavier. I was sure the neighbors could hear us, but they’d heard everything at this point, so I didn’t bother worrying about it. They liked us well enough not to file a noise complaint to the landlord.

Phil abruptly stood, his eyes more sad than angry at this point. “I’m going to bed. And just so you know, I didn’t fuck the piano guy. The piano guy came on to me way too strong and I left. Sorry for not shoving him off me fast enough, but I didn’t let anything happen.” And with that, he was gone.

I was immediately sorry. I really was. I had yelled at and accused him and he had listened to it all, taking it so I could get my anger out even if none of it was true. Because that was Phil Lester, the nicest person in the entire world, and I was Dan Howell, the shittiest best friend in the entire world.

I sighed, walking to my room and falling asleep face-down on my pillow, which was insanely uncomfortable but I could care less at this point. I just wanted to sleep.

 

I woke up at around eleven, immediately feeling the guilt from the previous night. I knew I had to apologize-I was absolutely in the wrong-but I also knew a simple apology wouldn’t cut it this time. I needed to sort things out with Phil before this happened again, this me getting jealous and snapping at him because I had a temper that was ridiculous nine times out of ten. Phil was the last person who deserved this shit.

I walked into the kitchen, opening the cupboard to get my cereal but finding a yellow sticky note in the the box’s place.

 

I promised I’d get your cereal so I’ll be right back

Sorry I didn’t get it yesterday

 

I winced this time, hating that he now felt the need to apologize. I distracted myself by taking a shower and drying my hair infuriatingly slowly, honestly wasting time until I knew I’d have to face Phil. I heard the front door shut just as I was turning the shower off, and I hid for a few more minutes towel drying my hair before walking into the lounge, where Phil was reading a book. He glanced up when I walked in, smiling tightly and nodding to a bowl on the table.

“I poured you cereal.”

I smiled back, not meeting his eyes, and carried the bowl over to sit on my end of the sofa. I ate in silence as Phil read, watching his eyes behind his glasses dance quickly over the words. I finished the bowl as he was finishing what must have been thirty pages, and I cleared my throat, getting his attention.

“I’m sorry for being such a little bitch,” I closed my eyes, feeling Phil’s eyes on my face. “I just really didn’t like the way the guy was looking at you or the way you were looking at him.”

“But why does it matter how someone looks at me, or how I look at them?” Phil asked, not letting me off the hook so easily. He was still upset, and he wanted answers this time.

I breathed in a deep breath, hating how ridiculous I sounded in my head before I’d even made a sound. “Because they don’t know you. And you deserve better than that.”

Phil nodded, not meeting my eyes. I looked to where his shirt was covering the hickey, and leaned forward, pulling the cloth to the side so I could look at it. Phil watched my face, which must have been switching between expressions of hurt and anger.

“That. You don’t deserve to be treated like that by someone who thought they had the right to do that to you.” I looked up, catching Phil’s stare. “What happened? Are you okay? I’m really sorry I didn’t ask last night when I should have.”

Phil still looked needlessly ashamed, but answered me nonetheless, scooting closer to let me pull at his shirt and inspect his skin for any more marks.

“He had too much to drink and tried to take things to the next level. At first he was just kissing me and I thought, ‘what’s the harm in that?’” Phil’s eyes slipped to the floor, knowing I had glanced up at the word ‘kissing’. “I guess I figured out what the harm was,” he eventually mumbled.

“Are you okay?” I repeated, not letting myself care about the petty details that were still bothering me.

Phil shrugged. “It hurt, and he was an awful kisser. Way too rough on the first date.”

“You never were the one that liked it rough,” I mused, flushing red as soon as Phil’s eyes clicked back to me.

“Mmm,” was his only response, watching my hand trail over his collarbone. I only found one bruise, which relieved me somewhat. At least I didn’t find more reasons to go kick this bastard’s ass for hurting my best friend.

“It’s not the same,” Phil mumbled, shaking his head.

“What isn’t?”

“This,” he tapped the hickey. “It’s not the same as the ones you used to give me.”

If I wasn’t already beat red, I sure as hell was now. “That was a long time ago,” I said quietly, twisting my hands together between us. “And besides, those were given with consent.”

I saw Phil nod out of the corner of my eye, and just when I thought we were going to fall into another uncomfortable silence, he spoke.

“I miss those days.”

“Of what, giving each other hickeys?”

Phil snorted. “No, silly. Of being together. I just don’t know if…”

“If what?” I promoted, hoping and praying this was going in the direction I wanted it to go.

“If we’d work out.”

I took a deep breath, choosing my words carefully. “The thing is, if we don’t, what’s the worst that could happen? We stay best friends? Because I have no intention of going through another 2012.”

Phil chuckled dryly, definitely agreeing.

“Might as well make it simple. I like you. I really don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks anymore. And I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving you, no matter what happens.”

And that’s the sentence that made the room fall completely still, the air around us not even seeming to move. I hadn’t told Phil I loved him, even back in 2009, because I was stupid and naive and didn’t really know what it meant. But I knew what it meant now, and I did mean it, and Phil could absolutely tell.

But his response was what shocked the breath out of me.

“I love you too, you dumbass.”

I was staring, wide-eyed, waiting for him to continue.

“I just never knew when it was safe to tell you. Love always used to be such a touchy subject with you, I didn’t want to upset the peace.”

“So you went out with my piano guy?”

Phil smiled a bit, but it wasn’t mean. Just slightly rueful.

“Yeah, because I’ve been waiting four years to tell you and you never said anything about it. I didn’t know if it’d be a problem, and hey, you’re the big advocator of 2017 being the year to do things without worrying so much about the consequences.” Phil smile grew, his eyes holding that mischievous glint they sometimes got when he was planning something big. “Which is why I’m going to do this.”

Phil leaned closer to me, his lips hovering next to mine, so close I could feel the heat coming off his skin.

“May I?” he whispered, his breath tickling my cheek. I simply nodded, closing my eyes and kissing Phil for the first time in five long, loaded years. He pulled back too soon, studying my face with a guarded expression.

“You’re okay with that?”

“More than okay,” I breathed, leaning back so Phil could hover over me. “That’s the one thing I’ve wanted for longer than I can think.”

Phil smiled softly, his eyes capturing mine and reminding me that one of the best things about Phil Lester were his infamous eyes. They really were better up close, especially when they were swirling with emotion that I had somehow caused.

“Why didn’t you just ask?”

I rolled my eyes, probably ruining what could be a romantic moment but that was just our relationship summed up.

“Because you intimidate me with your perfection, you spoon.”

Phil leaned his head on my chest as he fell into a fit of laughter, his chest rumbling against my stomach and causing me to laugh as well.

“You’re so ridiculous sometimes,” Phil giggled, capturing my responding grin with another kiss. We stayed like that for a period of time that was both endless and not long enough, doing nothing more than remembering the way things used to be. It was so natural, so comforting, that I wanted to literally punch myself in the face for being stupid enough to let Phil wait on me. The thought alone was backwards; Phil shouldn’t have to wait for anything, let alone for me to get my shit together. Five years after I’d snapped.

He really was the best person in the world.

Which was why I gently pushed him up, rolling off the sofa and pulling him along behind me to my room. The thoughts that must have been running through his mind were unknown to me, but I smirked at the thought of surprising him with the opposite of what he expected.

“Uh, Dan?” he finally questioned, after I pushed him down to lay on the bed and turned the light off, the fairy lights on my wall the only source of light in the room. “What’re we doing?”

I sat down on the piano bench, popping my knuckles as I answered. “You’re relaxing and closing your eyes.” My tone left no room for argument, but I heard Phil breathe out a laugh of confusion and anticipation. “I’m playing you a song.”

I took a deep breath, preparing myself to play the song that I had been practicing forever but had never sounded right because of my out-of-tune piano. I desperately hoped the notes sounded right now.

[Note: Feel free to listen to BensPianoSolo’s piano cover of Thinking Out Loud on Youtube-it’s an accurate representation of what I imagined this sounding like!]

I barely looked at the keys as I played the song, focusing more on the melody than anything. I didn’t sing, because my voice would ruin everything, but played the entire song to Phil in what sounded like the perfect notes and tunes, and when I finished, I stayed dead silent, waiting for Phil to say something.

When he didn’t, I made myself turn around, the fairy lights catching the gleam of tears on his cheeks shocking me into walking over to him and speaking.

“That bad, huh?” I chuckled, blushing and smiling because that’s what I did when I played the piano for Phil. I got flustered, especially when I did well; even I expected myself to mess everything up.

But Phil only smiled, wiping the tears off his face and sniffling. He looked so adorable that I was happy my music had such a strong effect on him.

“Bad?” he finally exclaimed, astounded by my lack of confidence in my abilities. “You freaking learned how to play Thinking Out Loud on a broken piano so you could do this someday? You planned this? And you don’t think I absolutely love it so much that I think that’s our theme song now?”

I flopped onto the bed, burying my face in a pillow as I laughed. “You’re embarrassing me! It wasn’t a big deal.”

I could practically hear Phil roll his eyes, and I felt his hands rub my back and shoulders as he leaned in to whisper, “hey Dan?”, his breath tickling the back of my neck.

“Mm?” I mumbled into the pillow, still hiding from Phil’s praise.

“I just now realized that you quite literally have the keys to my heart.”

I groaned at the pun, rolling over so I could see his giant grin, tongue poking between his teeth and eyes dancing in amusement.

“Now you’re just embarrassing yourself.”

Phil hugged me, still seeming in awe about my playing Ed Sheeran on the piano. It hadn’t even been that difficult; Phil just hadn’t expected it.

“I don’t care. You’re beautiful and talented and I love you.”

I snorted. “I don’t know about beautiful and talented, but I sure as hell love you too.”

“We waited way too long to say that to each other,” Phil murmured, already falling asleep, arms around me and chin resting on top of my head.

“Yeah, we did. Let’s not ever do something that stupid again.”

Phil’s voice was so sleepy when he responded that you’d think it was late at night, but it was only about 3PM; we were both exhausted from fighting the previous night. Another stupid choice of ours, that was both needless and draining for everyone involved. We were meant to get along, that was the only logical conclusion.

“Agreed.”


End file.
